


Rescue Me

by the_noble_bachelorette84



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Bike, Daddy Issues, F/M, Kink, NSFW, Oral Sex, Smut, Spanking, intercourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4480133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_noble_bachelorette84/pseuds/the_noble_bachelorette84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sultry summer afternoon at a wedding reception leaves you aching for some time with a bad boy on a bike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue Me

You were bored at an outdoor wedding reception on a summer afternoon. Hobnobbing with people you didn't know. Or even avoiding them. It was muggy. Hot. Why were you even here? Your only friend there was busy being the bride, and you were happy for her. You didn't expect her to babysit you, but you sure wished someone would.

 

Then you hear it. Getting closer. The unmistakable rumble of a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Could it be him? He knew roughly where you were. It wasn't that big of a park. Then you saw the source of the sound that never used to do anything for you until you met him. Now it made your skin tingle with anticipation of long rides on the bike followed by longer rides in the bedroom. He has removed his helmet, presumably to better locate you in the crowd of wedding guests. You trek down to the roadway, smiling broadly at him. He half smirks back in that way that drives you crazy.

 

"Daryl Dixon. What brings you out on this sultry day."

 

"Oh, you know. Looking for free beer. Any up there?"

 

"Just Bud Light. It may be free, but you decide the true cost."

 

"Shit, let's go get a six pack and then have target practice with the empties."

 

"Yes. Please. Lemme go say my goodbyes."

 

"Don't take too long, sunshine." He winked at you and you almost just jumped on the bike and told him to take you anywhere out of sight so you could devour him. But you showed restraint.

 

"Wouldn't think of it." You winked back. It was clear that you had your reasons for wanting to go with him. And his were exactly the same. You walked briskly back up to the reception, seeking your friend with keen eyes.

 

"Hey, I'm gonna take off. My ride's here."

 

"Oh okay! Wait, I thought you drove."

 

"Umm …" Daryl revved his engine, punctuating your pause.

 

"Mmm who's the bad boy on the steed?"

 

"My ride!" You looked at her with fire in your eyes. Understanding dawned on her features. "And listen, you're taken now, so watch yourself." You teased.

 

"Hey, just because I admire the cars on a lot don't mean I have to test drive 'em!"

 

"True! Anyway! Congratulations again, sweetie! Love you!" You give a heartfelt hug to one of your oldest friends.

 

"Love you! Thanks for coming!"

 

"I wouldn't miss it, you know. Not for anything!"

 

"I know. But hey, if you had missed it for that guy, I totally would have understood." She tried to get a better look. He revved again and hollered "you comin', sugar?"

 

You looked at your friend pointedly and muttered "not yet!" She heard you loud and clear and nudged you on your way back to your night on a black horse. Leather angel wing vest and a sheen of slightly grimy sweat for armor. His facial hair was getting a bit long, as was his hair. But you liked it that way.

 

"So, the liquor store?" He asked as he put in his helmet again.

 

"Ya know, I think I've got some booze at home. Chilled even. Let's save the money and time!" You replied, donning your own helmet.

 

"I'm down." You both engaged your face shields and you were off.

 

You were nestled in close to him. Your strong thighs grasping his narrow hips for dear life, foreshadowing, you hoped, events to happen later this evening. You clutched his torso, a bit wider than his hips under much broader shoulders. You felt the muscles of his core work in tandem with the bike beneath you in the same way yours did. It was like dancing, but infinitely more intimate.

 

The vibrations of the vehicle radiated from your center all the way to your fingers and toes. This combined with the proximity of Daryl gave you a need you couldn't suppress. You wanted to signal him to stop. To pull off the road a ways so you could tear his clothes off. But it wouldn't be long until you were home. And a bed would be better than the forest floor.

 

He was leaning back into you now that you were on straighter roads. Your lust turned to contentment as you squeezed him just a little tighter. The way you just fit each other in every way possible seemed to be a work of fate. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Even your senses of humor were compatible.

 

You must have been in a daze, because you didn't notice how near you were to home until he patted your bare knee to inform you. The lust was back with a vengeance when he left his hand there on your leg for a minute, running his thumb along the inside of your knee. You gripped his hips tighter with your legs and he squeezed your knee before putting his hand back on the handlebar.

 

As you turn into your street, your heart starts to race. You can't wait to have him naked in your bed. The filthy things you want to do to him play through your mind like a highlight reel of future events. When he pulls into your driveway, you dismount before he's come to a complete stop, doffing your helmet with haphazard haste, and dig around your cross body bag for your keys. You found them, but, in a rush, you dropped them.

 

He had gotten there before you could stoop to get them. He looks up at you, intense gaze meeting yours. His hand, once again, goes to your knee and you gasp as he runs it lightly and slowly up your thigh and under your skirt. He was so close that, as he stood, you could feel his hot breath through your clothes, and his nose just grazing them in his ascent.

 

When he was fully erect -not that way- he leaned over you and whispered into your ear.

 

"Lose something, sunshine?"

 

His words were as sweet as southern-style tea, but hotter than Georgia in July. His drawl was always your undoing.

 

He backs you against the door, deftly locates the key, and without looking away from your needful stare, drives the key into the lock, the gesture pregnant with innuendo. As he turns it, opening the door, you know you are no longer in control of this situation. You tipped your hand when you lost your cool a moment ago. He was calling the shots tonight, and although you were disappointed in yourself, you knew you wouldn't regret it.

 

He pushed you through the now open doorway and pinned your hands at your sides as he kissed you and pressed himself onto you with desperation.

 

His tongue invaded your mouth in a battle that your own tongue could hardly fight. He tasted of cigarettes, you thought Marlboros, and another flavor that you couldn't quite pinpoint, but reminded you of the hickory wood your dad used to burn on cold winter nights to keep your house warm. You could smell it, too, mixed with the earthy musk that was all Daryl.

 

The warm Atlanta breeze was wafting the honeysuckle and cut grass scent into your foyer as Daryl diverted his focus from your mouth to your neck. He also abandoned his grip on your wrists to begin kneading your breasts. You gripped his bare arms with your liberated hands and moaned as his forefinger and thumb found and then pinched your nipple.

 

"Daryl…" you whispered.

 

He growled hungrily as he continued devouring your neck with his voracious mouth. You liked him this way. He was a man of few words, but he had a way of communicating what he felt. This guttural sound was actually very communicative for him.

 

You laced your fingers through his long, dark hair as he descended to the fabric of your shirt that covered your breasts. He found one of your peaks, erect with want, through the barrier of thin cotton with his lips.   His teeth nipped lightly at them as he reached down under your skirt, slid aside your underwear, which was already dampened with need, and plunged a finger inside your dripping cunt.

 

"Ahh, fuck!" You gasped as he found the spot inside you that, when touched, sent your heart racing.

 

"You're so wet, little girl. How'd ya get like that?" He asked, and although your eyes were closed, you knew he was smirking because he knew the answer.

 

"You…" you whispered, unable to articulate words because of what he was doing inside you.

 

"What's that now?"

 

"You…unh, oh God!" You couldn't take it. It was torture.

 

"Sorry, darlin', I didn't quite get that."

 

You were going to come right there in the open foyer if he didn't stop. You had neighbors for God's sake.

 

"Unf, you fucking know why, Dixon!"

 

And you lunged at him kissing him firmly, and slammed the door shut.

 

He reached around to your backside, squeezing your ass, then picked you up, resting your thighs, once again, on his hips. Only this time he was facing the right way and there was no bike to work around.

 

You were hungry for each other. He held you tight as you kissed so deeply it almost hurt. He carried you into your bedroom down the hall, pawing and clawing at the skin beneath your shirt.

 

He threw you roughly onto the bed, which protested a bit, and followed you down to continue the onslaught.

 

"Do you…want me…to…get us…some…drinks?" The statement was broken up by his kisses.

 

"Umm, yeah, about that…I have like, no booze. I'm all out. I doubt there's even cooking sherry or peppermint schnapps from Christmas!" You looked up at him sheepishly.

 

"So you lied to me?" He asked as he chewed on you ear. The bastard knew what got you going.

 

"Ah! Yeah, I'm sorry. I couldn't wait to get you home! I've been thinking about what I wanted to do to you all day. I could barely concentrate on that wedding!"

 

"Well, that I can respect, little girl. But lyin'? Nah, that dog ain't gonna hunt. You're gonna get it, now." He stood up at the foot of the bed. You leaned up on your elbows to see what he was doing. He was stripping. And he was doing it slowly and deliberately, as if there was all the time in the world. Meanwhile, you were burning alive and he just as well have been throwing kerosene on you.

 

The vest, he tossed at you. It smelled like him. Smoke, gasoline, musk and cinnamon.

 

His sleeveless shirt hit the floor, and you could see the tattoo on his left pec. It was faded, and you couldn't even make it out. You'd never asked the significance of it, but you didn't need to know. Not unless he wanted you to.  

 

His boots were next followed by the cord he always wrapped around his pants to keep them free of the moving parts of his bike. It was all turning you on even more, and more than it should. You needed friction. You needed release. You reached for your center and started circling your clit, but he caught you before you could get any momentum.

 

"I don't think so. If you get to come today, I'm the one who's gonna make it happen. We clear?"

 

You nodded, quickly removing your finger from your trigger.

 

He unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his filthy jeans, and oh so slowly pulled down his zipper, half smirking as he did.

 

Oh, the things you would do to him if he didn't have you restrained with only his gaze. You were immobile, despite being free of any bonds.

 

He took his long, hard length in his hand and began stroking. Your mouth watered to taste him as he handled himself. Savor the precum you could see glistening on his tip. You licked your lips and bit your thumb.

 

"Please!" You whispered.

 

"You want a little taste? Come here, girl."

 

She slid down to the foot of the bed, slid off, kneeled, and looked up at him with hungry eyes, mouth open like a baby bird waiting to be fed.

 

"Oh, you're daddy's dirty little girl, ain't ya?"

 

"Uh-huh!" You nodded.

 

He teased you at first, giving you tiny tastes. Little thrusts in and out. You whined.

 

"Greedy little girl. Daddy gonna have to spank ya?"

 

You nodded a "yes" as well as you could with his cock in your mouth.

 

"Well, stand up, then. I ain't got all day."

 

You did, and he turned you so that the bed was on one side and he was facing you on the other. He swatted you with his hand, and it stung. Badly. He did it again and it was more enjoyable. You liked it better and better with each strike and your yelps turned to moans.

 

"That's enough, I think." He pushed you back down on the bed and as you bounced, pulled your ass to the very edge. He knelt down between your legs, stripped you of your panties, and began the torture.

 

From toes to thighs, and right to left, he worked, tantalizing you with every brush of his tongue. Every touch of his lips. Every nip of his teeth. By the time he got to your left thigh, you were close to tears. The need you felt inside was painful. He needed to move his game along or you were sure you would die.

 

Then you felt him kiss your mound. Your eyes shot back open after squinting for so long through the delicious agony. You looked down at him and he winked up at you. You were certain he was smirking again, too, but the bottom half of his face was now out of view, working its magic over your lips. He was avoiding, with obvious deliberation, your throbbing, aching, desperate clit. He was visiting the surrounding areas. Frequently, in fact. You were going to combust. You grabbed his hair and moaned, "Daryl! Oh, Mr. Dixon! Please!"

 

"Please what, you bad girl?"

 

"Please make me come!"

 

"You think you deserve to come after that hooch stunt? I don't reckon you do. I got half a mind to take what I need from ya and then hop back on my bike and leave ya here to take care of yourself. You want that?"

 

"No, Mr. Dixon! Please!"

 

"Tell me just how ya want it."

 

"Lick and suck my clit and fuck me with your fingers! Please!" You hoped he didn't want you to be any more specific!

 

"Oh you ARE a dirty little girl! I guess I can make that happen. Since ya asked so nicely. And I think you're sorry for lyin' aren't ya?"

 

"Oh God yes, Daryl!"

 

He did just as you asked, flicking his tongue over you, pulling you into his mouth with infuriating suction. He slid first one, then two fingers inside your opening, rubbing your g-spot with the perfect friction and pressure as he lapped at your outer trigger.

 

You were so close to the edge. The hand that was not clutching his hair was gripping the bedsheets for dear life. He reached up with his free hand and laced his fingers with yours and groaned into you as both of your hands clenched a bit harder. You were gone. Off in your blissful climax. Your mind blank save for you and Daryl.

 

"Mmm!" he intoned, licking his lips. You'd heard him make the same sound after eating a satisfying steak dinner. "Baby, you taste so good." He climbed up your body, pressing his lips against yours and coaxing your tongue into action once again. You could taste yourself on him, and you couldn't understand why, but it turned you on even more! Your hips sought friction against him. He sat you up and pulled your shirt and skirt up over your head and dragged you up the bed with primordial force. He spread your legs and lowered himself onto you, planting kisses all over your chest and neck. You were beyond wet again. You couldn't take it anymore. Despite the fact that you just came, you needed this orgasm. You needed Daryl Dixon inside of you. Thrusting, squeezing, grunting like the animal he was.

 

You whimpered and he took his cue. He entered you slowly, but to the hilt, filling you, pleasurably painfully. You gasped and before you could catch your breath, he was pounding into you. Hard. Fast. Sweat dripped from him as he fucked you. You were glistening too, with the perspiration from the sweet exertion.

 

You were so full of him, physically, mentally, and emotionally. He was in your head and your heart. Your eyes met, and you were sure you saw a tear in his stormy blue eyes. You kissed him hard, both hands laced in his long locks.

 

He reached down and thumbed your clit, sending you almost immediately over the edge crying his name. He groaned and pulled out of you, intending to finish himself elsewhere, but you pulled him back.

 

"Gimme that." And you snatched his cock from him, stroked it just like he needed it, and then took his entire length into your mouth. You scratched your long fingernails down his ass checks as he came down your throat, grunting your name.

 

Your eyes met as you released him with a smack of your lips.

 

"Damn, little girl. Where'd you learn to give head like that!?"

 

"Good girls don't tell their secrets." You said, coyly.

 

"S'at right? Well I don't see any good girls in this bed, do you?"

 

"Unfortunately, no. Do you know any?" You grinned like a dervish at the taboo suggestion.

 

"No, but I like this bad girl I'm gettin' t'know!" And he rolled you over on top of him ready for round two with naughty new images in both of your heads.


End file.
